CLOSER I didn't sleep much last night and this morning is an exercise in nervous energy, with Jr rapping his fingers on his chair while I try to write. Ryan Holden wants to see me. No matter how many times I've searched for him, the constant company I have when travelling blocks a real scouring of this city. "Can you stop that? I can't concentrate," I snap. My voice sounds angrier than I want, but I can't help laughing at the hurt expression on his face. How very young he is indeed. Saul enters the room and without looking at Jr, begins placing a line of guns on my desk. He puts a 9mm Glock on my notebook and rests a hand on my shoulder. "It's loaded." Jr sighs and I can see Saul's touch reflect in his jealous eyes. I nod towards the door and wait for him to heed my instruction. He sighs again, but does listen, stamping towards the side entrance and exiting into the servant quarters. "He forgot his baby bib," Saul says, laughing and pulling my face towards his. Taking my cheeks in his large, rough hands, he kisses me, forcing my lips apart. "Don't be jealous, it's not attractive." He yanks me from the chair into his arms, a hand on my ass pulling me against his body. "I am not jealous. I need you." "I don't have time for your needs," I say, but I can't keep a moan from escaping my lips when his hand grips me there. "No..." I say, pushing him off me and taking the Glock in my hands. I eject the clip and the bullet in the chamber and begin stripping the weapon. While I work, Saul lifts my robe and brings a palm down with great force on my bare ass. "I told you the weapon was loaded. That means I cleaned it for you," he growls into my ear, unzipping his pants and pushing me against the desk. I struggle in his grip, but there is no sense for within moments he lifts me and forces himself inside me. "You always told me to check a firearm..." "Quiet girl," he says. I obey because I can't speak, the force of him entering me erasing my thoughts. "Do you really wish to find Ryan?" What? I try to understand what he asks, but I can't hear anything over the sound of his flesh smashing against mine. I open my mouth to respond, but only a squeal escapes my lips as he forces it all inside me. I wait for him to say more, but for some minutes he remains silent, taking out his need on me in rough repetition, over and over again, controlling my body like a rag-doll. The urgency builds and I put my hands on the desk to keep him from smashing me against it. "Don't finish in me," I say. Pulling me off him and pushing me onto my knees, he forces it into my mouth and fires hot seed down my throat. When he finally collapses next to me, I arrange my robe and being re-assembling the Glock. "Yes, I want to see Ryan," I say after I load the handgun. "Then get rid of Jr when we go into the city today." I ponder his statement for a minute. "Is this a ploy to get more time with me?" "Girl, you won't meet Ryan with Jr at your side. There is a lot you don't know. Take my fucking word for once and stop questioning everything I say." He marches from the room and I'm left at the desk alone, rubbing my finger against the trigger in distraction. Will I see Ryan today? Where are you, sir? And how does Jr fit into all of this? MY PRISON in Las Vegas I stare at the sunlight streaming through the windows until tears fill my eyes. Another morning. Another day. With a sigh, I turn and see George Jr watching me, leaning an elbow on a pillow. His soft eyes say hello and fingers caress my naked body. I do nothing and remain still while he explores and touches and kisses my bare skin. "Good morning, beautiful," he says, trying to kiss my lips. Rolling away from his gaze, I return to staring out the window and allow his advances on me, not doing a thing to stop him. The warmth from his body makes me smile and push back into his caress. "Again?" I ask. There is no telling you how many times this young man can perform in the span of a single day. He whispers something in my ear that I can't discern as he grips my shoulders to help guide himself inside me. Moving against me slowly, tenderly, I close my eyes and imagine I'm watching the scene like a spectator. Can I deny how much pleasure he gives? There is none of the rough hew of madness that colors Saul's passion for me. Jr envelops me in an embrace and remains inside me, kissing my neck and whispering, always whispering. "You are mine," he says, voice cracking and thick with desire. I do not answer, but roll onto my back and put my arms around his neck. Sweat drips from his forehead on my pillow, but I don't care and instead look into his eyes. He is close to orgasm and I tell him how good it feels and how much I want him to stay inside me. "Don't pull out," I say as his body seizes, bucking against me in short, violent spasms. I rub his back while he sucks in air and tries to speak. He doesn't manage to regain coherence before I hear a knock upon the door. "What is it?" I yell. There is no answer and I push George off me and pull a robe over my shoulders. Yanking the door open, I see nobody in the hall and follow the commotion of sound coming from the front lobby. George Sr stands near the door, waiting for me. "What's the racket?" I ask. Shaking his head, he nods at the door, "The usual." Placing my hand on the knob, I swing the door open to face those making a steady racket on the stained glass. The sounds of cameras snapping and journalists yelling questions assaults my ears. Scanning the crowd, I see Marcus standing near a group of local cops. He smiles at my dismay. "Do your job for once and clear these people from my property," I yell at the police as Marcus separates and approaches the mansion. George pulls open the second door to allow him access before closing both, locking out the reporters and cops. "Someone woke on the wrong side of the bed," he says, shaking a finger at me. "I would tell you how wrong you are, but it's none of your fucking business. Now, tell me why you're here before tea." I'm pleased to present Part 16 of Justin's wonderful Horror tale. I do hope you enjoy. If you need coffee or tea or perhaps an adult beverage, please let George Jr know and he'll take care of all your needs. A Play Demonic (The Queen’s Idle Fancy) — Part 16 by Justin Bog Mt. Erie knows secrets, and keeps most of them—dark times from the past grown over with new foliage, twisted vines, ferns, stumps of fallen trees, moss, decay. The entire town did as well. Deception Pass was named because of this tendency towards illusion, mist obscuring the bay’s opening, the roiling tide unleashing a whirling fury of water through the narrow pass, and Deception Pass Bridge became the main tourist stop, linking Fidalgo Island to Whidbey Island. Each year someone slipped from a cliff’s edge into the Puget Sound, or, with more than seasonal melancholy eating away, took his or her own life, leaping from the bridge itself, compelled by inner demons—a sadness, a depression, a feeling of nothingness overwhelming. For those following from distant places, please read the read of this horror tale at Justin's Website!
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